Please note that due to Copyright Trolls, all images have been removed until I can manually review them, one by one, and ensure credit is appropriately displayed. So if the story suddenly makes no sense, then...well...soz.
This is a long process, so please bear with me...it will likely take until the end of 2024 until all images are reviewed and displayed correctly. Sigh.
As my fawning over California continues, I decided this week that I would go somewhere almost as far away and almost as difficult to get to – Bromley. Namely the Cow & Pig restaurant.
I was actually booked into one of Hampstead’s most highly rated pubs to celebrate a friend’s birthday, but covid struck. A new accomplice was found, but it meant going to south London. Deepest, darkest, Faragest south London. We can forget about him now, can’t we?
Speaking of things to forget about, I actually went near my office this week. Namely to a bar called Huckster. Even the name sounds like I should vomit, let alone the fake graffiti in the toilets and inexcusably poor beer selection.
And some people dare to suggest that we should go back to the office? At least I don’t have to go anywhere in Harrow where I live (and hence work) – I can happily never go in a pub here ever again.
But if I go to the office, then I have to go to the pub after work on occasion. And look what happens when you have no influence. It was free beer, mind.
No way am I going back to the office.
OK…maybe I could handle some “hot desking”.
Yes I am signed up to a couple of lingerie newsletters. Kind of brightens my day up, in between e-mails from Quora explaining which area of the UK would be nuked first, e-mails in Norwegian almost certainly offering me some fix for my future erectile dysfunction and e-mails from every single Young’s pub I’ve ever visited telling me Easter is on the way. And I’ve been to a lot of Young’s pubs.
And also I follow a couple of porn stars on Twitter, again to brighten up my scroll in between social media posts from every single Young’s pub I’ve ever been to and those that I haven’t been to all telling me Easter is on the way. Though Asian porn stars only as I live in Harrow, and want to be seen to fit in when I’m scrolling past Kayla Kapoor’s backside whilst sat next to someone on the Metropolitan line. You know, metrosexual Metropolitan line man and all that stuff.
How Now All Cows.
Have you seen the slightly less useful desk photograph from this weekend gone?
Yes this sounds like a good idea to pose with some lines of almost certainly crap cocaine whilst being a Tory MP. This will never fall back on me. This will never end up on the internet. Idiots reviewing roast dinners will never post it on their blog.
Ahhhh. And yeah, there are reasons why I’m not Prime Minister also. Obviously because nobody would vote for someone who’s idea of community service is reviewing 201 roast dinners. Oh and there may be a video of me somewhere *REDACTED BY LAWYERS* through a roll of cheese whilst in Ibiza. In my defence, I did vote Tory back then. And yeah, I ate the cheese. Ahhhh back when I was young and fun. Now I can barely function for 3 days after a night at Huckster.
Anyway, Bromley. Have you ever been?
Today, anything is possible. Well, except me ever becoming Prime Minister. Or finding a Spanish wife. Or ever finding a better roast dinner than Blacklock. That said – I actually have two places booked over the next month that could – and I stress could beat it. Maybe one place actually. The Cow & Pig in Bromley, almost certainly wasn’t going to beat it.
We arrived there to a warm and friendly welcome…and cow print chairs.
Not the best photograph ever though I could write that after almost all of my photographs, more remarkable (I hope) is the lack of central London décor. Or even zone 2 décor. Or even zone 3 décor. Yeah, apparently it has an accent. In the English language. News to me also. Anyway, the décor was such that we could almost be in any crap town outside of London – cow print chairs (which I kind of liked), fake leaves, and wood-themed wallpaper. WHERE ARE MY EXPOSED BRICK WALLS AND OVERSIZED LIGHT BULBS?
Don’t Have A Cow, Man.
It wasn’t the easiest menu to photograph, the light bouncing off the plastic sheeting covering the menu.
I was torn between the pork and the chicken, both priced at £17.95, though once our waitress confirmed that it was pork belly, then my decision was made. With a side of pigs in blanket. My accomplice was even greedier, and went for the all in for £19.95.
The other two options were beef and lamb, both at £18.95.
Our waitress, who was a delight throughout – I actually think she was running the place, did try to sell us the “t-bone steak”. I explained to her that it was Sunday, but still she was like, “but if I can tempt you…”. SUNDAY. ROAST.
The roast took around 20 minutes to arrive – at which point I realised that I could do with a glass of wine, which then came almost quicker than I could have poured one at home. Kudos for understanding our needs. Sometimes I’ve ordered wine at pubs/restaurants when the meal arrived, for it to turn up after I’ve eaten.
Oh that’s not a roast dinner.
I’m actually not sorry.
Don’t Have A Cow, Man. Yeah, same heading as before.
“Hot Desking is a hyper-realistic celebration of successful women at the top of their game who wear Agent Provocateur, whether working from home or in the office: standing up for themselves, rewriting the rules together, breaking traditions and boundaries and loving every minute of it.”
Yah, of course, dahl. And you thought I wrote a load of shite. Back to the roast dinner?
Starting with the carrots, because. These were actually rather on the crunchy side – I don’t think they were roasted, they seem more steamed with a honey glaze applied after, though I could be wrong. I can barely come up with a decent heading or take a decent photograph, let alone tell you how they’ve made the carrots.
Then we had a gamut of cabbage – well, green and red cabbage, with some leek. And amazingly for the first time in the history of London restaurants (well…maybe Bromley ain’t London), they managed to use red cabbage without all the winter spices. You know, just steamed it, or whatever. The leek was notably soft though the red cabbage had more of a crunch – and the flavour of the leek came through more.
Just realised that I’ve not moaned about Brexit for a while. Or should we have more lingerie models?
Now, I’m horny. I’m tempted to use Bumble to find new friends, but one of the demands on my profile will be, “must be willing to moan about Brexit”. Liking roast dinners will help also.
Have a cow. Because we don’t export as much food product now.
Potatoes. Well, we were back to roast potatoes this week, and not a bad effort. Like, they were edible, which tends to be the most I can ask for. No crispy edges, and somewhat soft inside rather than fluffy, with a hint of herb. Acceptable.
The Yorkshire pudding was quite good. Happily not one of these massive chunks of crap that zone 2 pubs insist on for INSTAGRIM – this was freshly made and feasibly sized. Soft on the bottom, a little tearable otherwise, and generally quite good.
Considering it was supposed to be pork belly, I’m not sure what happened to the crackling. Do they think it shouldn’t be eaten? The fatty bit on top was there, but not the crunchy bit. Otherwise the pork belly was reasonably good. It didn’t stand out in terms of flavour as pork belly really should, but it was enjoyable and there was plenty of it.
We paid £5.00 for a side of pigs in blanket (their spelling). My sausage was quite overcooked on the camera end, but the rest of it was a good juicy sausage, wrapped in streaky bacon.
Finally, the gravy. They are quite keen on you knowing that they offer unlimited gravy – it was a homemade, meat stock kind of affair. Reasonable in terms of consistency, though it did seem to separate into gloopier and more watery thicknesses, and it added to the roast in a mild-mannered way. I wasn’t in love with it, but it was pretty good.
Pig in Pig & Cow.
Quite good. Pretty good. Those phrases keep cropping up in my review, don’t they?
The waitress/manager was keen on wanting to know what we thought of it – so much so that I’d only eaten two carrots when she first asked. I’ve mentioned her a few times and she really was good, we felt looked after, we felt welcomed – and she was keen for us to come back.
It’s unlikely I will go back, but that’s nothing to do with the food – more a location thing. Bromley South might be 16 minutes on the train from Victoria, but Victoria is nearly an hour from Harrow, where I live. Plus a short walk to the Cow & Pig.
The roast dinner was reliably good. All the constituent parts were at least quite good – though nothing that went into my mouth was excellent. Service was excellent, décor was delightfully crap town ish, drinks were respectable for zone 5 – they had a pint of Brixton so I was happy.
My accomplice, who is from Bromley and might actually go back, scored it an 8.00. I’m scoring it a 7.65 out of 10. If Bromley is convenient for you, or you are on some kind of mission to eat roast dinners across the whole of London, then you should definitely give Cow & Pig a whirl.
The folks are visiting this weekend and we have a proper restaurant booked. It should be very good, but I know there will be a fight to get enough gravy out of them. Especially for a table of 4 northerners.
Anyway, I’ll see you at the office. Hope we don’t get stuck in a lift.
Cow & Pig, Bromley
Station: Bromley South
Tube Lines: National Rail
Fare Zone: Zone 5
Loved & Loathed
Loved: Service was wonderful, generally the food was good but nothing stood out.
Loathed: Nothing was bad - the roast potatoes could have been crispier.